07-11-2025, 09:18 PM
Oh, how wonderful it was to fly so easily through the air. Fabian could practically feel the warm wind flowing through his toes and his hands, which he held out straight in front of him, calmly and without a trace. His curls blew in the breeze, and it felt as if he could feel that warm wind within himself too—he felt almost as light as a feather as he soared over green hills. Below, some lambs frolicked—from this height, they looked like little cotton balls chasing each other, but if Fabian concentrated hard, he could even hear them bleating. He flew on—over small villages where happy children were playing, over forests as dark green as the eyes of his favorite doll. To his right, a seemingly endless ocean opened up, when suddenly a seagull sought out his companion and looked at him curiously. Fabian never really liked it when people stared at him like that. So, he decided to make a left turn to avoid the cheeky seagull.
"Stay here! You'll like it here with us," he heard her call. "No one will hurt you here!"
"Unfortunately, I can't," Fabian gasped, finding it difficult to speak at such a great height. "As beautiful as it is here, I don't belong here. Maybe another time." He had barely finished the sentence when he was suddenly pulled downward, as if a firm grip had closed around him. He hurtled toward the earth, and the once dark and beautiful forest now seemed sinister and threatening, and it was getting closer and closer.
Slowly, very slowly, Fabian opened his eyes. Why did his dreams always have to end like this? How he would have loved to fly further. He rubbed his eyes and peered tiredly out from under the covers. It wouldn't be long before his mother came to wake him up. Unfortunately, the weekend had passed far too quickly again – how lovely it was to be back with his grandparents in the country. The city, everyday life – and especially school – always seemed so far away on days off. Fabian hated school – not in the way many students like to say, no, he really hated it.
“Good morning, my darling, did you sleep well?” His mother had come into the room unnoticed and, like every morning, gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
"Good morning, Mom!" Fabian replied, followed by a hearty, exaggerated yawn. It was the same ritual as every day, and every time his mother had to laugh heartily. All he wanted was to make her happy, not cause her grief.
As he slowly padded out of bed, his mother fumbled around in his closet, laying out his clothes. As always, Fabian grumbled about it—after all, he wasn't a little kid anymore. Still, he appreciated the fact that she was taking such good care of him.
After showering, Fabian was always in a hurry. He gulped down his breakfast at record speed, said goodbye to his mother and father—who had also gotten up by then—and walked with his packed school bag toward the bus stop, which wasn't far from his parents' house. Not that he was in a hurry to get to school—as I said, he hated school—but every time he hoped to catch an earlier bus so he wouldn't run into them . Them—the other boys in his class.
Unfortunately, he was unlucky that morning – although he got to the bus stop early enough, one of the buses seemed to have broken down. It seemed like an eternity before the school bus finally arrived. His heart was pounding in his throat – hopefully at least his friend Silvie, who always sits in the front row and can save a seat for him, was on the bus. Then at least he wouldn't have to fight his way all the way to the back, past all the rows where they sat. Silvie wasn't just his only friend, he also sat next to her at school. Was that why the boys called him 'girly boy'? Or was it his blond curls? Fabian didn't know the answer to that question. He liked Silvie very much, but he wasn't in love with her.
Luckily, Silvie was on the bus that morning and, as always, had saved a seat for him. His heart rate returned to normal as he sat down next to her. Alex, Phillip, and Can were sitting further back on the bus and didn't seem to have registered Fabian's arrival at first. They were in the same class and his worst enemies.
"Good morning, Fabian," Silvie smiled at him, similar to his mother. "Oh, if only the day could already be over—it probably won't get any better," Fabian thought, and greeted Silvie warmly as well.
They were soon engrossed in conversation—about how the weekend had been, whether he'd done all his homework, and how he was doing. Silvie glanced back angrily several times—from the moment the first gumballs flew toward Fabian.
"I was with Grandma and Grandpa. It was really great. Imagine how big their new dog is already," Fabian said. The 'old' dog had unfortunately died last year, which Fabian was very sad about. "I would love to..."
Fabian fell silent. A ball of chewing gum had hit him squarely in the head. While Silvie cursed back at him, he tried to ignore the attack. "Where do they always get so much chewing gum?" he thought, barely managing to hold back the tears.
"You faggot!" he heard someone shout loudly from behind. It was definitely Can – he always called him that.
"Cry, you girl! You're not even wearing your skirt today!" That was Alex. How could he possibly know that? Fabian had known Silvie for a long time, and they'd loved playing together in kindergarten. She was also a frequent guest at Fabian's house—and out of curiosity, they'd often swapped clothes. Fabian always found that very pleasant, but also a game. Only, Alex couldn't possibly know anything about it.
Five minutes later, the bus finally arrived at school. "OK. See you in class!" he said to Silvie, before taking to his heels and running towards the school building. During recess and the time before classes started, it was always worst. So he tried to get to school before everyone else – even if he wasn't really there. Directly in front of Fabian's classroom was the school garden, which included an old garden shed. Of course, it was locked, but some time ago he had discovered a loose board that he could easily squeeze through – after all, he was very slightly built. Once inside , he always crouched down behind the large spade and rake and sat completely still. If he was particularly early, he enjoyed the peace and quiet, the smell of the wood, or the chirping of the birds.
However, the noise level in the school building next door grew louder by the minute. He heard the others laughing and shouting. The boys playfully insulting each other. The girls giggling.
He knew he didn't belong. He didn't like fighting with the other boys, and he didn't like playing soccer either. At gymnastics, he preferred to stay with the girls—after all, there were other ball games besides soccer, where he was always chosen last anyway. In general, the girls seemed much gentler to him—he felt comfortable among them. But he wasn't a girl either, even if he often imagined what it would be like to be one. Fabian was always thinking about that—and much more—in those last few minutes before the first bell rang. After that, he had five minutes to hang up his jacket in the cloakroom and hurry to class.
Most of the time, he actually did it on tiptoe, just so as not to be loud or attract attention. Sometimes he wished he were like the other boys – loud and wild. And if someone was cheeky to him, he'd get a slap in the face! Just like the others did to him, not because he was cheeky to them, but simply because he was different. He just couldn't hit anyone; even thinking about it seemed like a mistake. He wasn't like the others; he simply didn't belong.
To make matters worse, all students had to be in their classrooms after the first bell rang. If a teacher caught you, it meant trouble. Fabian got caught once: a teacher hissed at him so hard that his knees wobbled and tears welled up in his eyes. He didn't ask why he was late. He didn't seem to care. The teachers didn't care that he regularly dreaded recess. They didn't care what happened before and after school every time.
Neither did any teacher care when they grabbed him one day and dragged him to the toilet.
"Come with me!" a boy from another class said to him kindly. Fabian didn't know the older boy and was curious about what he wanted from him. "I've hidden a little kitten in the bathroom, do you want to see it?" Fabian loved animals; his grandparents had not only a dog but also two cats, with whom he often played for hours when he stayed with them on weekends.
So he went with the boy that day, even though he was a little scared – after all, he knew that animals were not allowed in the school building and that this could get him into a lot of trouble.
Every morning, Fabian remembered that day, the pounding in his throat, the excitement – and what happened next.
"I hid them in the last cabin," he heard the boy, who was just behind him. At that moment, he felt fear for the first time – something seemed wrong. The door burst open in a flash, and another boy came out. Fabian tried to run away, but the older boy behind him was far too strong – he grabbed him by the neck and, with the help of the other boy, pushed him into the cabin.
“Be quiet!” one of them hissed and covered his mouth as Fabian began to whimper.
“You should be quiet!” he hissed again when Fabian didn’t calm down.
"Let's go before a teacher comes!" whispered the other. They grabbed him by the legs, dipped his head into the bowl, and flushed the toilet. Fabian could hear their ugly laughter, much louder than the water.
“So, did you enjoy your shower, you faggot?” one of them laughed in his face when they were finished with their nasty game.
“Then let’s see if he’s really a girl,” said the other, and he pulled Fabian’s pants down.
It didn't seem to bother them in the slightest that Fabian was now quietly crying to himself. He patiently endured the insults.
“Look, he does have a dick!” one of them shouted amusedly.
"And what a tiny one! So almost a girl after all," said the other. It was slowly getting louder outside the toilet entrance, which made them both nervous.
"You stay here for another 5 minutes, okay? Otherwise we'll repeat this tomorrow, and the day after, and every other day, too, got it? And heaven forbid you say anything to anyone! We'll think of something much worse!"
To emphasize this, one of the two punched him in the stomach before they left the restroom. Fabian collapsed – he had never been so scared in his life. But he did as the boys had instructed. He pulled up his pants and sat for another 15 minutes instead of the usual five, crying silently.
The bell had already rung for class when he put his head under the hairdryer to dry his hair. Then he returned to class, where he also got into trouble with the teacher.
“Fabian, you know it’s forbidden to be late to class after the bell rings!”
"Excuse me, I was still at the bathroom. I've had a stomach ache since this morning!"
The teacher eyed him suspiciously, and Fabian knew he didn't believe him. "Don't tell fairy tales," the teacher said that day. "Have you hidden yourself in the bathroom again, eh? Tell me, do you really have to exclude yourself all the time? Do you want to remain an outsider for life?"
Fabian stood rooted to the spot while everyone else stared at him. He hated being stared at. His homeroom teacher had even summoned his parents to school to tell them how worried he was about Fabian. His reason for concern: Fabian would isolate himself—he would refuse to join the group. When his mother later confronted him about it, Fabian began to cry. He was far too afraid to tell her what had really happened—and besides, he didn't want to upset his mother, whom he loved more than anything.
From that day on, Fabian hardly dared to go to the toilet at school – and he started to wet the bed.
That morning, Fabian was at his desk in time for the bell to ring. The first lesson was math – Fabian was extremely gifted, and math, in particular, came easily to him. Unfortunately, the lesson passed quickly because during the following break, Fabian had to go to Can. A few weeks earlier, Can had ordered Fabian to give him his daily snack.
“What have you got with you today, sweetheart?” he trilled girlishly, which his friends found highly amusing.
“I have a corn bread with cheese – and a packet of cocoa!”
"Ugh. Is that all? Pure girl food! Do you at least have money with you?"
"No," Fabian lied, because he had 5 euros in his pocket. Of course, Can didn't believe him. Fabian recoiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the 5 euros.
"Liar!" Can snapped at him, and the others looked as if Fabian had committed a serious crime. Silvie, who tried to intervene, was stopped by a few girls; they all helped when it came to Fabian.
"Lie to me again and you'll get hit again, got it?" Can stood up to the smaller Fabian. "Got it?"
"Yes," Fabian squeaked.
Can pocketed the 5 euros, took his corned beef with cheese anyway, brought it to his crotch and ran his right hand up and down.
"Oh, Fabian, Fabiaaan," he groaned as the others doubled over with laughter. Then he spat on Fabian's snack and handed it back to him.
"Enjoy your meal, faggot. Now get out of my sun."
Fabian was so fed up. He was too weak and too scared to defend himself against the much stronger Can. What good would it have done? Can had many friends who would have helped him, but he only had Silvie, who couldn't help him either.
And Can was quite serious: If Fabian didn't do what he wanted, he would lie in wait for him after school and beat him up. Can never hit him in the face, mostly in the stomach or balls. After all, he didn't want Fabian to have any visible evidence against him.
So the school day continued – hour after hour. Break after break. Insult after insult. First it was Can, then Phillip, then Alex.
Finally, the last two lessons had arrived – drawing. Fabian was a very good artist, and he loved this subject. When he had his drawing paper and his watercolors in front of him, he would disappear into another world. He would immerse himself in the watercolors, and everything around him would be colorful. His brush danced across the paper as if moved by an invisible hand, while Fabian created dreamscapes. Because that was precisely the motto of the lesson: a dream!
What a coincidence! Fabian decided to paint his dream from the previous night. He painted the hills he had flown over, the lambs chasing each other—and a friendly-looking seagull. He remembered what the seagull had said to him: "No one will hurt you here!"
Fabian finished faster than everyone else and looked at his sheet of paper with satisfaction – the art teacher praised him and he could hardly wait to get home to show it to his mother.
“See you at the bus stop,” Fabian whispered to Silvie as he ran out of school as fast as he had run off the bus in the morning.
A little later, they met up again at the bus stop – along with a group of other students waiting for the bus. Among them were Can, Alex, and Phillip, who glared at him. Fabian was proud of his drawing – they apparently didn't like it when he was happy.
More and more children gathered at the bus stop, but no bus was approaching. When Fabian felt unobserved by the others, he said goodbye to Silvie and decided to walk home.
"Are you sure?" Silvie asked. "The bus will definitely be here soon!"
“Oh, it’s not that far, and at least the others won’t bother me!”
He slipped away as inconspicuously as possible, carefully carrying his drawing in front of him—after all, he didn't want to crumple it unnecessarily. The sun shone warmly, and the people passing by looked at him with smiles.
"Ah, Fabian!" Mrs. Weinfahrt, who lived in the neighborhood, ran into him. "What a beautiful drawing you made there! And how big you are already. How old are you?"
“I’ll be nine in two weeks!” Fabian replied politely.
"Well, all the best then." She rummaged through one of her bags and pulled out a bar of chocolate, which she immediately slipped into his school bag. "In case we don't see each other before then!"
Fabian thanked her and said goodbye. He liked Mrs. Weinfahrt, who was always nice to him.
How could it be that everyone in his neighborhood seemed to like him, while everyone at school hated him?
He was supposed to be nine years old. He really wasn't tall, even though Mrs. Weinfahrt claimed otherwise. He was rather short and very slender. Because of his blond curls, some people really did think he was a girl, which Fabian didn't really care about – as long as they didn't insult him for it. He just liked playing with dolls and other girls. He didn't want to play with boys – he was rather afraid of them, even though he saw something mysterious in them. When he thought about certain boys, he even felt a warm feeling in his stomach. He found that strange!
"You've really sucked up to Müller again! Bring it on!"
Can suddenly appeared before him—with Alex and Phillip in tow. He snatched the drawing from him and looked at it mockingly.
"Look—all those little sheep! And little clouds! And that damn pigeon! A real faggot picture!" Can mockingly drew out the words "sheep" and "little clouds" while holding Fabian's drawing with two fingers.
“That’s a seagull,” Fabian whispered barely audibly.
The three fell silent.
“Please? Do you have something to say?” Can snapped at him.
“Come on, get him over there!”
Alex and Phillip pushed Fabian unnoticed into a side street, where they immediately pushed him to the ground and held him.
Almost gently, Can placed Fabian's drawing close to his face, as if he were concerned not to damage it. Then he unbuttoned his pants and peed on it.
The colors blurred and blended together – the seagull no longer looked friendly, but more as if it were crying.
When Fabian noticed that Alex and Phillip's grip was loosening slightly, he took this opportunity to escape.
“Come on, roar at him!” he heard Can shout behind him.
He ran headlong out of the side alley onto the street.
Only the squeaking of a car caused Can, Alex and Phillip to end their ‘hunt’.
Fabian stood rooted to the spot—had the car not slammed on its brakes, he probably would have been dead. He turned to his three tormentors and looked at them. Not accusingly or angrily. Just sadly, with a pleading look in his eyes that seemed to say, "Just leave me alone!"
He couldn't tell whether Can, Alex, and Phillip had noticed. They also stood there as if frozen in hydrochloric acid. Fabian walked home in silence.
"Well, my dear, is everything okay? Dinner's ready soon—spaghetti with cheese sauce. You like that kind of thing. How was your day?" his mother greeted him as Fabian crept into the house.
"Everything's fine, everything's as usual," Fabian smiled at her and went into his room. He didn't want her to see him crying. She shouldn't worry about him. In a few weeks, he'd be nine – and then everything would be better.
"Stay here! You'll like it here with us," he heard her call. "No one will hurt you here!"
"Unfortunately, I can't," Fabian gasped, finding it difficult to speak at such a great height. "As beautiful as it is here, I don't belong here. Maybe another time." He had barely finished the sentence when he was suddenly pulled downward, as if a firm grip had closed around him. He hurtled toward the earth, and the once dark and beautiful forest now seemed sinister and threatening, and it was getting closer and closer.
Slowly, very slowly, Fabian opened his eyes. Why did his dreams always have to end like this? How he would have loved to fly further. He rubbed his eyes and peered tiredly out from under the covers. It wouldn't be long before his mother came to wake him up. Unfortunately, the weekend had passed far too quickly again – how lovely it was to be back with his grandparents in the country. The city, everyday life – and especially school – always seemed so far away on days off. Fabian hated school – not in the way many students like to say, no, he really hated it.
“Good morning, my darling, did you sleep well?” His mother had come into the room unnoticed and, like every morning, gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
"Good morning, Mom!" Fabian replied, followed by a hearty, exaggerated yawn. It was the same ritual as every day, and every time his mother had to laugh heartily. All he wanted was to make her happy, not cause her grief.
As he slowly padded out of bed, his mother fumbled around in his closet, laying out his clothes. As always, Fabian grumbled about it—after all, he wasn't a little kid anymore. Still, he appreciated the fact that she was taking such good care of him.
After showering, Fabian was always in a hurry. He gulped down his breakfast at record speed, said goodbye to his mother and father—who had also gotten up by then—and walked with his packed school bag toward the bus stop, which wasn't far from his parents' house. Not that he was in a hurry to get to school—as I said, he hated school—but every time he hoped to catch an earlier bus so he wouldn't run into them . Them—the other boys in his class.
Unfortunately, he was unlucky that morning – although he got to the bus stop early enough, one of the buses seemed to have broken down. It seemed like an eternity before the school bus finally arrived. His heart was pounding in his throat – hopefully at least his friend Silvie, who always sits in the front row and can save a seat for him, was on the bus. Then at least he wouldn't have to fight his way all the way to the back, past all the rows where they sat. Silvie wasn't just his only friend, he also sat next to her at school. Was that why the boys called him 'girly boy'? Or was it his blond curls? Fabian didn't know the answer to that question. He liked Silvie very much, but he wasn't in love with her.
Luckily, Silvie was on the bus that morning and, as always, had saved a seat for him. His heart rate returned to normal as he sat down next to her. Alex, Phillip, and Can were sitting further back on the bus and didn't seem to have registered Fabian's arrival at first. They were in the same class and his worst enemies.
"Good morning, Fabian," Silvie smiled at him, similar to his mother. "Oh, if only the day could already be over—it probably won't get any better," Fabian thought, and greeted Silvie warmly as well.
They were soon engrossed in conversation—about how the weekend had been, whether he'd done all his homework, and how he was doing. Silvie glanced back angrily several times—from the moment the first gumballs flew toward Fabian.
"I was with Grandma and Grandpa. It was really great. Imagine how big their new dog is already," Fabian said. The 'old' dog had unfortunately died last year, which Fabian was very sad about. "I would love to..."
Fabian fell silent. A ball of chewing gum had hit him squarely in the head. While Silvie cursed back at him, he tried to ignore the attack. "Where do they always get so much chewing gum?" he thought, barely managing to hold back the tears.
"You faggot!" he heard someone shout loudly from behind. It was definitely Can – he always called him that.
"Cry, you girl! You're not even wearing your skirt today!" That was Alex. How could he possibly know that? Fabian had known Silvie for a long time, and they'd loved playing together in kindergarten. She was also a frequent guest at Fabian's house—and out of curiosity, they'd often swapped clothes. Fabian always found that very pleasant, but also a game. Only, Alex couldn't possibly know anything about it.
Five minutes later, the bus finally arrived at school. "OK. See you in class!" he said to Silvie, before taking to his heels and running towards the school building. During recess and the time before classes started, it was always worst. So he tried to get to school before everyone else – even if he wasn't really there. Directly in front of Fabian's classroom was the school garden, which included an old garden shed. Of course, it was locked, but some time ago he had discovered a loose board that he could easily squeeze through – after all, he was very slightly built. Once inside , he always crouched down behind the large spade and rake and sat completely still. If he was particularly early, he enjoyed the peace and quiet, the smell of the wood, or the chirping of the birds.
However, the noise level in the school building next door grew louder by the minute. He heard the others laughing and shouting. The boys playfully insulting each other. The girls giggling.
He knew he didn't belong. He didn't like fighting with the other boys, and he didn't like playing soccer either. At gymnastics, he preferred to stay with the girls—after all, there were other ball games besides soccer, where he was always chosen last anyway. In general, the girls seemed much gentler to him—he felt comfortable among them. But he wasn't a girl either, even if he often imagined what it would be like to be one. Fabian was always thinking about that—and much more—in those last few minutes before the first bell rang. After that, he had five minutes to hang up his jacket in the cloakroom and hurry to class.
Most of the time, he actually did it on tiptoe, just so as not to be loud or attract attention. Sometimes he wished he were like the other boys – loud and wild. And if someone was cheeky to him, he'd get a slap in the face! Just like the others did to him, not because he was cheeky to them, but simply because he was different. He just couldn't hit anyone; even thinking about it seemed like a mistake. He wasn't like the others; he simply didn't belong.
To make matters worse, all students had to be in their classrooms after the first bell rang. If a teacher caught you, it meant trouble. Fabian got caught once: a teacher hissed at him so hard that his knees wobbled and tears welled up in his eyes. He didn't ask why he was late. He didn't seem to care. The teachers didn't care that he regularly dreaded recess. They didn't care what happened before and after school every time.
Neither did any teacher care when they grabbed him one day and dragged him to the toilet.
"Come with me!" a boy from another class said to him kindly. Fabian didn't know the older boy and was curious about what he wanted from him. "I've hidden a little kitten in the bathroom, do you want to see it?" Fabian loved animals; his grandparents had not only a dog but also two cats, with whom he often played for hours when he stayed with them on weekends.
So he went with the boy that day, even though he was a little scared – after all, he knew that animals were not allowed in the school building and that this could get him into a lot of trouble.
Every morning, Fabian remembered that day, the pounding in his throat, the excitement – and what happened next.
"I hid them in the last cabin," he heard the boy, who was just behind him. At that moment, he felt fear for the first time – something seemed wrong. The door burst open in a flash, and another boy came out. Fabian tried to run away, but the older boy behind him was far too strong – he grabbed him by the neck and, with the help of the other boy, pushed him into the cabin.
“Be quiet!” one of them hissed and covered his mouth as Fabian began to whimper.
“You should be quiet!” he hissed again when Fabian didn’t calm down.
"Let's go before a teacher comes!" whispered the other. They grabbed him by the legs, dipped his head into the bowl, and flushed the toilet. Fabian could hear their ugly laughter, much louder than the water.
“So, did you enjoy your shower, you faggot?” one of them laughed in his face when they were finished with their nasty game.
“Then let’s see if he’s really a girl,” said the other, and he pulled Fabian’s pants down.
It didn't seem to bother them in the slightest that Fabian was now quietly crying to himself. He patiently endured the insults.
“Look, he does have a dick!” one of them shouted amusedly.
"And what a tiny one! So almost a girl after all," said the other. It was slowly getting louder outside the toilet entrance, which made them both nervous.
"You stay here for another 5 minutes, okay? Otherwise we'll repeat this tomorrow, and the day after, and every other day, too, got it? And heaven forbid you say anything to anyone! We'll think of something much worse!"
To emphasize this, one of the two punched him in the stomach before they left the restroom. Fabian collapsed – he had never been so scared in his life. But he did as the boys had instructed. He pulled up his pants and sat for another 15 minutes instead of the usual five, crying silently.
The bell had already rung for class when he put his head under the hairdryer to dry his hair. Then he returned to class, where he also got into trouble with the teacher.
“Fabian, you know it’s forbidden to be late to class after the bell rings!”
"Excuse me, I was still at the bathroom. I've had a stomach ache since this morning!"
The teacher eyed him suspiciously, and Fabian knew he didn't believe him. "Don't tell fairy tales," the teacher said that day. "Have you hidden yourself in the bathroom again, eh? Tell me, do you really have to exclude yourself all the time? Do you want to remain an outsider for life?"
Fabian stood rooted to the spot while everyone else stared at him. He hated being stared at. His homeroom teacher had even summoned his parents to school to tell them how worried he was about Fabian. His reason for concern: Fabian would isolate himself—he would refuse to join the group. When his mother later confronted him about it, Fabian began to cry. He was far too afraid to tell her what had really happened—and besides, he didn't want to upset his mother, whom he loved more than anything.
From that day on, Fabian hardly dared to go to the toilet at school – and he started to wet the bed.
That morning, Fabian was at his desk in time for the bell to ring. The first lesson was math – Fabian was extremely gifted, and math, in particular, came easily to him. Unfortunately, the lesson passed quickly because during the following break, Fabian had to go to Can. A few weeks earlier, Can had ordered Fabian to give him his daily snack.
“What have you got with you today, sweetheart?” he trilled girlishly, which his friends found highly amusing.
“I have a corn bread with cheese – and a packet of cocoa!”
"Ugh. Is that all? Pure girl food! Do you at least have money with you?"
"No," Fabian lied, because he had 5 euros in his pocket. Of course, Can didn't believe him. Fabian recoiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the 5 euros.
"Liar!" Can snapped at him, and the others looked as if Fabian had committed a serious crime. Silvie, who tried to intervene, was stopped by a few girls; they all helped when it came to Fabian.
"Lie to me again and you'll get hit again, got it?" Can stood up to the smaller Fabian. "Got it?"
"Yes," Fabian squeaked.
Can pocketed the 5 euros, took his corned beef with cheese anyway, brought it to his crotch and ran his right hand up and down.
"Oh, Fabian, Fabiaaan," he groaned as the others doubled over with laughter. Then he spat on Fabian's snack and handed it back to him.
"Enjoy your meal, faggot. Now get out of my sun."
Fabian was so fed up. He was too weak and too scared to defend himself against the much stronger Can. What good would it have done? Can had many friends who would have helped him, but he only had Silvie, who couldn't help him either.
And Can was quite serious: If Fabian didn't do what he wanted, he would lie in wait for him after school and beat him up. Can never hit him in the face, mostly in the stomach or balls. After all, he didn't want Fabian to have any visible evidence against him.
So the school day continued – hour after hour. Break after break. Insult after insult. First it was Can, then Phillip, then Alex.
Finally, the last two lessons had arrived – drawing. Fabian was a very good artist, and he loved this subject. When he had his drawing paper and his watercolors in front of him, he would disappear into another world. He would immerse himself in the watercolors, and everything around him would be colorful. His brush danced across the paper as if moved by an invisible hand, while Fabian created dreamscapes. Because that was precisely the motto of the lesson: a dream!
What a coincidence! Fabian decided to paint his dream from the previous night. He painted the hills he had flown over, the lambs chasing each other—and a friendly-looking seagull. He remembered what the seagull had said to him: "No one will hurt you here!"
Fabian finished faster than everyone else and looked at his sheet of paper with satisfaction – the art teacher praised him and he could hardly wait to get home to show it to his mother.
“See you at the bus stop,” Fabian whispered to Silvie as he ran out of school as fast as he had run off the bus in the morning.
A little later, they met up again at the bus stop – along with a group of other students waiting for the bus. Among them were Can, Alex, and Phillip, who glared at him. Fabian was proud of his drawing – they apparently didn't like it when he was happy.
More and more children gathered at the bus stop, but no bus was approaching. When Fabian felt unobserved by the others, he said goodbye to Silvie and decided to walk home.
"Are you sure?" Silvie asked. "The bus will definitely be here soon!"
“Oh, it’s not that far, and at least the others won’t bother me!”
He slipped away as inconspicuously as possible, carefully carrying his drawing in front of him—after all, he didn't want to crumple it unnecessarily. The sun shone warmly, and the people passing by looked at him with smiles.
"Ah, Fabian!" Mrs. Weinfahrt, who lived in the neighborhood, ran into him. "What a beautiful drawing you made there! And how big you are already. How old are you?"
“I’ll be nine in two weeks!” Fabian replied politely.
"Well, all the best then." She rummaged through one of her bags and pulled out a bar of chocolate, which she immediately slipped into his school bag. "In case we don't see each other before then!"
Fabian thanked her and said goodbye. He liked Mrs. Weinfahrt, who was always nice to him.
How could it be that everyone in his neighborhood seemed to like him, while everyone at school hated him?
He was supposed to be nine years old. He really wasn't tall, even though Mrs. Weinfahrt claimed otherwise. He was rather short and very slender. Because of his blond curls, some people really did think he was a girl, which Fabian didn't really care about – as long as they didn't insult him for it. He just liked playing with dolls and other girls. He didn't want to play with boys – he was rather afraid of them, even though he saw something mysterious in them. When he thought about certain boys, he even felt a warm feeling in his stomach. He found that strange!
"You've really sucked up to Müller again! Bring it on!"
Can suddenly appeared before him—with Alex and Phillip in tow. He snatched the drawing from him and looked at it mockingly.
"Look—all those little sheep! And little clouds! And that damn pigeon! A real faggot picture!" Can mockingly drew out the words "sheep" and "little clouds" while holding Fabian's drawing with two fingers.
“That’s a seagull,” Fabian whispered barely audibly.
The three fell silent.
“Please? Do you have something to say?” Can snapped at him.
“Come on, get him over there!”
Alex and Phillip pushed Fabian unnoticed into a side street, where they immediately pushed him to the ground and held him.
Almost gently, Can placed Fabian's drawing close to his face, as if he were concerned not to damage it. Then he unbuttoned his pants and peed on it.
The colors blurred and blended together – the seagull no longer looked friendly, but more as if it were crying.
When Fabian noticed that Alex and Phillip's grip was loosening slightly, he took this opportunity to escape.
“Come on, roar at him!” he heard Can shout behind him.
He ran headlong out of the side alley onto the street.
Only the squeaking of a car caused Can, Alex and Phillip to end their ‘hunt’.
Fabian stood rooted to the spot—had the car not slammed on its brakes, he probably would have been dead. He turned to his three tormentors and looked at them. Not accusingly or angrily. Just sadly, with a pleading look in his eyes that seemed to say, "Just leave me alone!"
He couldn't tell whether Can, Alex, and Phillip had noticed. They also stood there as if frozen in hydrochloric acid. Fabian walked home in silence.
"Well, my dear, is everything okay? Dinner's ready soon—spaghetti with cheese sauce. You like that kind of thing. How was your day?" his mother greeted him as Fabian crept into the house.
"Everything's fine, everything's as usual," Fabian smiled at her and went into his room. He didn't want her to see him crying. She shouldn't worry about him. In a few weeks, he'd be nine – and then everything would be better.